


Snow says

by HelveticaBrown



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 09:33:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13633563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown
Summary: All Emma wants is to watch the Wonder Woman movie after a hellish week of night shifts. Instead her day becomes a lot more complicated when the movie she rents turns out to be cursedWritten for Swan Queen Week Winter 2018 for Day 3: Is it porn and Day 5: Sucked in





	Snow says

**Author's Note:**

> This is honestly a mess. It's a little bit crack-y, kind of smutty but mostly stupid and not nearly as funny as I hoped. It was written in a rush on not nearly enough sleep and in the end I'm not sure what I intended the fic to be, but I decided I really wanted to post it by the end of Swan Queen Week. I haven't been able to finish much fic in the last few months, so when the idea for this one popped into my head, I decided to give it a whirl and see where I ended up.
> 
> Written for Swan Queen Week Winter 2018, Day 3: Is this porn and Day 5: Sucked in.

* * *

 

Since the most recent curse had been cast, complete with impenetrable barrier around the town, her TV reception dropped out with annoying regularity and the internet seemed to have slowed down to mid-90s dial-up speeds. That was why Emma found herself walking into the video rental store on a Saturday morning, longingly thinking of her severely-neglected Netflix queue. She couldn’t remember ever having been into the store before, but somehow she was sure it had always been there and probably always would be, because Storybrooke was just about the only place in 21st century America that had a video rental store. 

She picked up a DVD copy of Wonder Woman from the shelf and grabbed a bag of microwave popcorn for good measure, handing over a couple of dollars and receiving a brown paper bag in return that she might have expected for something a little more X-rated than the latest DC Universe flick. She trudged out to the car and started the short drive home.

After changing into her pyjamas, she made a bee-line for her sofa, opening the paper bag on the way. She was more than a little annoyed to discover that instead of the Wonder Woman DVD she’d picked up, there was an unmarked VHS in the bag.  

Emma sighed heavily. All she wanted was to be able to crash in front of the TV and watch someone who wasn’t herself save the world for once. Instead, she had a piece of obsolete technology she had no way of using. For a moment, she thought about getting dressed and going back to the store, but it had been a long week and the thought of leaving her apartment any time in the next 24 hours sounded a lot like torture.

As she stared glumly at the blank television, she realised that there was a VCR on the shelf below her Playstation. It must have come with the apartment during the curse, because there was no earthly reason she would have bought one herself. She knelt down to look at it and realised it was already plugged in; she _had_ been working a lot of nights lately, so maybe she’d set it up in a post-night-shift haze. She’d certainly done stranger things than that in the past, like seriously contemplating giving in to Hook’s incessant demands for a date.

She shrugged and slipped the cassette into the VCR, figuring at this point, she might as well find out what it was. Knowing Storybrooke and her own luck, it would probably be some direct-to-video sequel, but she wasn’t really in a position to be choosy right now.

She went to the kitchen to put her popcorn in the microwave and pour herself a drink while she waited for the video to start, just in case it did turn out to be The Hunchback of Notre Dame II, or something equally horrifying. By the time she got back, the copyright warnings had just finished cycling through and she sat down waiting for the movie to start.

There was a brief moment of garbled, unrecognisable music, and then the screen filled with static. Emma almost threw her popcorn at the screen in disgust, before she remembered that she hadn’t been to the grocery store in over a week and apart from said popcorn, the only other food in the house was probably a mouldy pop tart from when Henry had last stayed over.

Emma sighed. It seemed like the universe was determined to deny her even the slightest pleasure after a long shitty week of rounding up Storybrooke’s drunk, disorderly and delinquent. It wasn’t even like there’d been anything interesting to keep her going. Just an endless series of routine drudgery, flavoured with the occasional highlight of projectile vomit onto her boots from one of her collars.

She picked up the remote and tried to switch off the TV. When that didn’t work, she fiddled with the batteries for a moment, before giving up and walking over to the TV and trying to switch it off there. She frowned in confusion at the still very much static-filled screen, thought for a moment about pulling the plug from the wall before deciding she couldn’t be bothered.

She sat back on the sofa and absent-mindedly chewed on her popcorn while looking at the TV. There was something weirdly compelling about it and she figured her brain really must be fried from all of the night shifts. If she squinted, it kind of looked like there were shapes that might have been people in among all of the static. Emma continued to peer at the screen wondering if she might be able to at least figure out what the movie was. As she stared the shapes became more and more distinct and she blushed a little when she realised what they were doing. Apparently the brown paper bag and the unmarked case had been warranted after all.

The bag of popcorn fell from her hand, completely forgotten, as she was drawn further and further into what was happening on the screen and when she tried, she couldn’t look away. As she continued to watch the picture sharpened, enough that she could begin to pick out details, small fragments of a bigger puzzle: long dark hair, a woman’s chest flushed deep with pleasure, a golden head nestled between her thighs.

She was struck by a sense of familiarity, a feeling of déjà vu, even though she knew she hadn’t seen this before.

There was sound now, of breath coming quick, of sighs, of moans. And finally, a name rasped out, heavy with sex.

 _Emma_.

*****

Regina had just poured herself an extra-large glass of wine, looking forward to a peaceful evening, when Henry called.

There was a near-unintelligible wave of speech and Regina frowned, trying to make sense of it all. “Slow down, Henry. What’s going on?”

“Mom, I think Ma’s been whammied. She’s just sitting here looking at nothing and she isn’t responding when I talk to her.”

Regina sighed and put her wine glass back on the kitchen bench. So much for a quiet night.

She poofed over to Emma’s new apartment and roller her eyes when she saw Emma sitting on the sofa wearing not all that much. Typical Emma: always dressed for visitors.

“Emma, how about you go put some pants on?” she said, loudly next to Emma’s ear.

She gave Emma an experimental poke. Nothing. “Emma, I’ve heard that Granny’s taking grilled cheese off the menu,” Regina said, watching intently for a reaction. Still nothing.

 _Definitely_ whammied.

She turned to Henry, trying to keep the worry from her face. “Henry, I don’t know what’s going on here, so as long as that remains the case, you’re going to be as far away from here as possible. Understand?”

Henry looked like he was about to argue and she fixed him with her sternest look. “Yes, Mom.”

With Henry safely dispatched, she turned her attention back to figuring out what was going on with Emma. There seemed to be some connection with the TV, and when she summoned her own magic, she could see a tendril of energy flowing outwards from Emma. She engulfed it in her own magic, trying to sever the link, only to bounce straight off it. She decided to try a simpler approach; she pulled the TV plug out of the wall and she wasn’t particularly surprised to find the static still apparent on the TV set.

In frustration, she threw a bolt of magic at the TV set; it fizzled away harmlessly and she twisted fingers in her own hair, trying to figure out what else she could do.

“Oh, Emma, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” she asked, half-expecting, half-hoping that Emma would wake up and laugh off her worry. Instead, there was a sick, creeping dread gnawing at her stomach, a horrible growing certainty that this would be the thing that they couldn’t beat and Emma would be lost forever.

She looked back over at Emma, cursing when she realised that things were worse now and that she had almost certainly been the cause of it. The thin strand of energy had grown thick and knotted and Emma seemed almost translucent.

As Emma faded from sight, Regina dived towards her throwing her hands and her magic and every bit of hope she had in Emma’s direction, managing to grab hold of her leg. She felt a strange jolt in her stomach and then nothing at all.

*****

Emma opened her eyes, confused to find herself lying on the ground. The air around her was strange and she wondered if she’d fallen and hit her head, because she couldn’t see anything other than small flashes of white light and darkness. She sat up and tried reaching out with her magic, but it was like there was a wet, heavy blanket over that part of her and after a long moment of effort that yielded nothing other than the beginning of a headache, she gave up on trying magic.

The last thing she remembered was someone calling her name and as she pulled herself to her feet she thought she could hear it again. She started to walk in the direction of the calls, towards what she hoped was someone friendly. As the voice grew more distinct, Emma continued to trudge through the unchanging landscape, the static teeming around her like a vaguely tingly, not-at-all cold blizzard. The not-cold part was a particular relief, because as she’d discovered, she was barefoot and wearing nothing more than a tank top and underwear.

Eventually, the static in front of her parted and to Emma’s relief it revealed Regina. If there was one person on earth she’d want to be stuck in a static-filled hell-scape with, it was Regina, because she was most likely to know how to get out of said hell-scape.

Regina rushed forward clutching at her arms briefly, standing distractingly close, and Emma was warmed for a moment by the evident concern in her face and her voice. “Emma, thank god you’re okay.”

Regina seemed to remember herself, stepping back a moment later and Emma found that she missed that closeness.

To distract herself, she asked what was almost certainly a blindingly obvious question. “So, where are we?”

“It would seem that we’ve been sucked in to your television set. Which wouldn’t be so bad if you’d been watching a travel documentary about maybe the Greek Islands or the Amalfi Coast, or literally anything other than this weird anti-magic static.”

Regina did _not_ know how to get out of the hell-scape, it seemed. That was disappointing. It felt a little bit like the universe had betrayed her again. “Your magic’s not working either? I was kind of hoping…”

“I’ve been trying it constantly. And even before we got pulled into here, I couldn’t do anything to stop whatever it was.”

“We could try together. Or you could try using my power.”

Regina took her hand, assuming a look of intense concentration. There was a moment when Emma almost felt something, but Regina shook her head and let go of her hand. “Nothing.”

Regina looked like she was about to explode with frustration and if they hadn’t convincingly established that their magic wasn’t working, Emma would have been ducking for cover, because there would have been fireballs flying in all directions any minute now. As she watched, Regina clenched both her fists before taking a deep breath and finally relaxing.

“Maybe if you can tell me what happened, we can try to figure out a way to get home.”

Emma shrugged. “All I remember is I hired a movie from the video rental store. And then I woke up here.”

“Video rental store?” Regina looked at her blankly.

“You know. The one on Main St.”

“Emma, there hasn’t been a video rental store in Storybrooke since you broke the first curse. Storybrooke’s a 21st century town. Even Old Mother Hubbard has Netflix,” Regina said, apparently indignant that Emma was questioning the modernity of her town.

“Well there’s definitely one there now. It’s not very good, though.” Emma wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I went in to hire Wonder Woman and all I got was this lousy curse. If we ever get out of here, I’m gonna ask for my five dollars back. I’m keeping the popcorn, though.”

Regina pinched the bridge of her nose and appeared to be stopping herself from what Emma expected to be a thoroughly cutting response. As Regina devoted an immense effort to stifling whatever comeback was on the tip of her tongue, Emma noticed the static ahead of them resolving. It seemed they were no longer alone.

As the static cleared, Emma squinted at the figure in the armchair uncomprehendingly for a moment, before some dim, distant memory floated up to the surface.

She looked over at Regina who was looking at the man in the armchair with a puzzled frown. “I’m pretty sure Sigmund Freud was a real–and _very_ dead–person,” Emma said quietly, “so I don’t get how he could be involved in casting some weird curse on my VCR.”

“You have a VCR? Even I don’t have a VCR and I spent 30 years stuck in a time warp.”

“Kind of not the most important point take-out from that. I’m a little more worried about the creepy, dead psychotherapist hanging out over there,” she said, still trying to keep her voice to a whisper.

Apparently she failed at that, because Sigmund Freud rolled his eyes and threw a cigar at her, which somehow managed to be weirder and more disturbing that literally every other piece of weird shit life had thrown at her since she’d found out about the whole Saviour thing.

“Would you rather I choose a different skin suit?” Sigmund Freud shook his head. “This one was so very useful to me once. All those filthy, nasty dirty desires humans bury away taste like cotton candy to me, all sweet and melty on my tongue. This one was ever so good at teasing them out then driving them deeper.”

There was a blinding flash, and when Emma’s eyes were clear again, the figure in front of them had changed.

“Do you like this one better, my sweets?” The demon–because she couldn’t possibly be mistaken for anything else–curved blood-red lips into a sultry smile that turned into a filthy chuckle a moment later. “I can see you do, _both_ of you, even though you’d never admit it.”

Emma wondered for a moment what the demon was trying to insinuate, but she was distracted from that line of enquiry when the demon sauntered towards them and ran a talon along her cheek. It sharp enough to sting a little, but not draw blood and when Emma tried to duck out of the way, she found she was rooted to the spot.

“I thought I’d hit the jackpot when I found you. So many sublimated desires. Denial is delicious and you have enough to sate me for years on end. And then,” the demon looked over towards Regina before continuing, “to be gifted with another with so much locked in the dark. Why, I feel almost greedy. _Almost_.”

Emma tried to move, tried to throw a punch, a kick, anything, but she was held fast. And when she tried to speak, tried to interrupt the demon’s gloating monologue with what she inevitably knew would be a futile threat, not even a whisper of sound passed her lips.

The demon took a couple of steps back and crooked her finger at Emma. “Now why don’t you lie down on my couch and dream some more of those delicious dreams for me.”

Her legs were suddenly working again, although not of her own volition, and she found herself walking towards the couch. She was just about to lie down when there was a blur of motion that she couldn’t quite catch and then the invisible hold on her body weakened and then failed.

She looked up, trying to take stock of the situation. It took a moment for her to piece things together, but an honest-to-god grin found its way onto her face as she saw one of Regina’s stilettos on the ground next to the demon and the other buried a good inch into its eye. And standing over the demon was Regina, a savage smile curving her lips, which softened when she caught Emma watching her.

As far as combat went, there was nothing clean about it, but then who was Emma to judge; her solution when confronted with a dragon had been to throw a sword at it. And if Regina’s weapon of choice happened to be expensive footwear, well that wasn’t exactly a surprise to Emma. After all, she’d been reduced to a hopeless, nervous wreck more than a few times by the click-clack of Regina’s heels coming down the corridor into the Sheriff’s station.

*****

They hadn’t had much time to gloat about their victory, because the demon’s corpse had disappeared, leaving only a blood-stained Louboutin as a reminder of its presence. And somehow they were still stuck exactly where they’d started, with nothing more to show for it than some outdated furniture and Regina’s newly-bare feet. Their magic was no closer to being restored than it had been before they’d encountered the demon and they were still no closer to getting home.

Emma sat down on the couch she’d just spent the last couple of minutes trying to escape, finding it surprisingly comfortable, as she tried to think her way through the problem.

“If this creature is feeding on sublimated desire, then I guess we need to un-sublimate a few things.” Emma pulled a face. “Is un-sublimate a word?”

“Does it really matter at this point?”

Emma shrugged. “Probably not. I just don’t know how to do this.”

“Neither do I. When I see Archie, I just talk and he makes vaguely supportive noises or asks the occasional question. Sometimes he just plays cricket song while I talk. I don’t even know if cricket song is an approved therapeutic technique, but he’s kind of got a monopoly on the whole therapist thing in town so I haven’t really tried to question it.”

“I don’t really know how to make cricket song, so I guess we start by talking,” Emma said and they both fell into an expectant silence.

A beat later: “You go first,” they both said at the same time.

“Fine.” Regina sighed and looked pensive for a moment and Emma thought that maybe this plan was going to fail before they’d even really tried to make it work.

The nothingness stretched out for what seemed like an awkwardly long time, and then Regina said, “I hate kale salad.”

“Seriously?” Emma was pretty sure the very foundations of the universe as she knew it were about to be upended if that was Regina’s first revelation.

A little too brightly, Regina continued, “I’ve always hated it. All I want to do is sink my teeth into one of Granny’s delicious burgers with an extra-large plate of fries.”

That explained Regina’s tendency to filch fries from hers or Henry’s plates when she thought they weren’t looking. “So why don’t you?”

“Because I’m almost seventy and we can’t all be Jane Fonda,” Regina said, as if it was the most obvious point in the world.

Emma stifled a grin. “You know as well as I do that you don’t look a day over sixty.”

“Thanks.” Emma could hear the eye roll in Regina’s voice.

And that was the best Emma could offer, because she couldn’t exactly admit that she thought that Regina looked perfect as she was and would only be better with time. Those weren’t the sorts of thoughts she was supposed to have and she felt vaguely ill at the thought that things she had tried to suppress for so long might come to the surface.

Regina sighed. “But this isn’t really getting us anywhere.”

“We’ve got to start somewhere, right?”

“You’re right. Of course you are.”

Regina stared at her hands, appearing deep in thought, and Emma didn’t want to interrupt. So she waited, until Regina spoke again.

“Sometimes I miss the Queen. I miss the way she made me feel strong, the way she made it feel like it was okay to be angry about the things that happened to me.” Before Emma could respond, Regina continued, her voice stark and wounded. “And I know I shouldn’t feel that way, because when I was her, I did terrible, unforgivable things. But now… now, I just feel guilty any time I get angry and I guess that must be how it’s supposed to be.”

Emma’s words were cautious as she tried to work her way through that. She was used to offering the kind of therapy that involved “I don’t know if it’s always right to be angry, but some of the things that happened…” Emma reached out and took her hand. “No”, she corrected, “some of the things that were _done_ to you. I saw them, felt them, when we were in Camelot and you have every reason to be angry.”

Regina laughed darkly. “I think it was the anger that let me break through before when that demon was holding us. Being so helpless, unable to save myself, unable to save you… I snapped and I think that’s what broke the spell for a moment. But it seems like even when I do good things, they’re tainted by that darkness.”

“ _Oh stop with this nonsense. What we really want to hear more about is the kale salad_ ,” came the distant echo of an indignant voice.

Emma looked at Regina and shrugged. “Guess we’re on the right track.”

“Your turn,” Regina said and the faintly nauseated panic Emma was feeling magnified until it felt like a hippo was doing somersaults in her belly.

She swallowed against the nausea and the nerves, her mouth suddenly filled with the acid taste of fear. Stumbling, haltingly, she began to speak, looking down at the hand that Regina was still holding. Or was it the other way around? Her head was spinning too much to remember clearly.

“There are things… things I’m supposed to want, things my parents expect me to want. They think I should be like them: the true love, the happily ever after. I don’t want that, or at least, not with any of the people I’m supposed to want it with. Not with Neal, not with Hook, not with any of the men they’ve pushed in my direction.”

“So what _do_ you want?” Regina asked softly, and Emma wondered if Regina could see right through her, because when she looked up, Regina’s eyes were so gentle and knowing.

Sitting here in this strange, barren landscape with no distractions and no excuses, Emma finally allowed herself to admit something that she’d been trying to ignore for a long time. She knew what she wanted, had known for what seemed like forever, but after so many years lost, she’d been terrified of failing to live up to her parents’ expectations. That didn’t matter anymore. If she was lost again then she might as well live her truth for as long as she was allowed to, even if it was just for a minute or two.

Her magic had always felt intuitive, a thing of heart or gut rather than head, and as the words formed on her tongue she felt the familiar pull of her magic, even though she knew it wasn’t supposed to be working right now.

She took a deep breath and spoke, her words a truth spell burning through some of the bonds that held her.

“I want you.”

****

_“I want you.”_

There had been moments before when Regina had dared to hope. Moments when she’d caught Emma looking at her with something that might have been confusion and desire all tangled up. And in those moments she’d been tempted. Tempted to shine a light on whatever it was Emma had been feeling. Tempted to take what she was certain was not meant for her, no matter how much she wished it might be. But there had been far more moments when she’d berated herself over the impudence of assuming any such thing.

And even now, faced with such incontrovertible proof, there was a part of her that insisted it couldn’t be true. But it seemed that in this realm the truth had power, so she gave herself to it willingly and added some of her own. After all, they’d always been stronger together.

Emma’s eyes were wide and uncertain and Regina could see what it had cost her to speak. And right now, it seemed that words would be too unwieldy and not quite adequate to soothe the agony of a confession left hanging too long. Emma was still holding her hand, so Regina laced their fingers tighter together, used that link to pull her closer until it took almost nothing at all to lean in and press the softest of kisses to Emma’s lips.

There was a second when Emma seemed frozen, caught by surprise, and Regina wondered whether this whole thing was a cruel trick that had been played on her. But then Emma was surging up to meet her, kissing her back, hungry, almost bruising in her intensity and Regina could only conclude that this was extremely, pleasantly real. And then Emma was pressing her back into the couch and her mouth was fastened on a spot just below Regina’s ear that was pretty much guaranteed to drive her wild, so she decided it was about time she stopped thinking about things so much.

Not for the first time, she was grateful for Emma’s less-than-modest choice of clothes, because when her hands went searching they discovered skin easily, her thumbs playing over the hard planes of Emma’s abs. She’d spent more than a few boring council meetings daydreaming about doing just that and now that she had the chance, the reality was even better than she’d hoped. She pushed Emma’s tank top up further until it was ruched around her shoulders to reveal small, perfect breasts.

She slid her hands up Emma’s abdomen, until she was palming Emma’s breasts, the nipples stiff and peaked against the flat of her hands. When she took one between her fingers, pinching, strumming, teasing, Emma’s answering moan was like a shot of high-proof alcohol, warming her through.

It was intoxicating and as wrong as everything about this situation should feel, Regina couldn’t help but be sure that this was right. It was like there was a spell being cast, but it was a spell of their own making, just for the two of them, and the emptiness where her magic had been was steadily being filled again. They were caught up in a wave of truth, of desire, of magic and Regina wasn’t sure they could stop until they’d ridden it all the way out. But maybe there was something fitting about their first time being in a situation like this. Nothing about their relationship had been normal from the start and now didn’t seem like the right time for that to change.

Regina’s skirt was hiked up around her waist and Emma was riding her thigh in a way that told Regina she needed more. Regina slid her hand beneath the waistband of Emma’s panties and she stroked down slowly until her fingers were slipping through slick, warm folds in tentative exploration. Emma was already so wet, so ready and when she drew her hand back for a moment, Emma whimpered at the loss of contact, canting her hips forward in search of Regina’s hand.

She pushed Emma’s panties down past her hips wanting better access, and Emma took them the rest of the way. This time, her fingers unerringly traced a path to Emma’s cunt and she slipped two inside, slow and gentle at first until Emma was demanding more. She increased her pace until Emma was straddling her, fucking herself on Regina’s hand, her head thrown back and those glorious princess curls cascading down her back.

She was close, Regina could tell. Close, but it seemed like she needed something more. Regina reached up with her free hand to take a nipple between her thumb and forefinger, squeezing, pinching, pulling. She adjusted the angle of her hand slightly until her thumb was sliding over Emma’s clit with each cant of her hips and she knew by the way Emma’s breath quickened even further until it was almost coming in sobs that she’d found the right note. It wasn’t long until Emma was shuddering above her and then collapsing back down into her arms.

*****

Snow rang the doorbell a couple of times, before pulling out the key that she was pretty sure Emma knew she had. She turned the key in the lock, pausing for a moment on the threshold to call out, “Emma, dear. We thought we could surprise you by taking you out to lunch.”

When she didn’t get an immediate response, she made her way down the hall. By the sounds of it, the television was on and she wondered if Emma had fallen asleep in front of it again.

When she walked into the living room, she was greeted with the sight of an empty sofa and a floor covered in popcorn. Her eyes flicked over to the television and she paused just long enough to determine that one of the figures on the screen was Emma, in a position that no mother should ever have to see her daughter, before running out of the room.

“It’s… it’s _POOOOOOOORN_!” Snow shrieked, the abject horror of what she’d just seen thoroughly infusing her voice until it reached a pitch that had the neighbourhood dogs howling in sympathy.

She ran smack-bang into the solid warmth of David’s chest as she blindly ran from that house of horrors, too traumatised to form any kind of coherent speech. David mumbled soothingly to her and after a long while she managed to find her words again.

“I knew Emma was in a dark place, but I never imagined things would be this bad. David, what if she’s out there right now, being pimped out on the mean streets of Storybrooke?”

His handsome brow crinkled in confusion, and Snow was reminded, once again, that she’d married him for his looks rather than his intellectual prowess.

“Oh, keep up, David, for goodness sake. Our daughter has been drawn into a terrifying, sordid web of pornography and prostitution and all you can do is stand there gaping at me like a useless baby bird.” In her mind, she offered a silent apology to birds everywhere for her thoughtless insult. She loved them all, fledged or featherless, even those weird flightless ones they had in that make-believe place New Zealand.

*****

The fragments had come together now, the ones Emma had seen on the video and they were like memories of the future. Perhaps they’d been dreams, but she was going to do her best to make them reality now.

Her mouth lingered on Regina’s chest, flushed with pleasure and she made sure to give each breast the attention it deserved with lips and teeth and tongue, soft and hard and everything in between. Regina had let her be fast, but in return, she was determined to be slow, to give Regina every bit of time and effort she deserved. She worked her way lower, lower, lower and when she finally bent her head to taste, Regina’s fingers knotted in her hair and it was so much for best laid plans, because Emma couldn’t deny Regina what she wanted.

She buried herself in Regina, her tongue quick and clever like a cat drinking milk, then slow and firm and considered until Regina was rocking up against her mouth and Emma’s world narrowed down to nothing more than this. She added a finger, then two, her tongue frantic against Regina’s clit until she could feel her cunt slick and hot and clenching around her fingers, and hear her voice low and husky, crying out her name.

She crawled up the couch until she could wrap herself around Regina, slinging an arm around her side and letting her hand rest on Regina’s chest. She could feel Regina’s heart, beating hard and fast and when her breath tickled the side of Regina’s neck, the faint vibrations of her laughter painted Emma’s fingertips. That sense of life, of reality was comforting in this strange, disconnected place.

Nonetheless, she asked, “Is it kind of weird that we just did that here?”

She felt Regina shrug against her. “Probably. But we could be stuck here forever, so I suppose we should make the best of it.”

Emma couldn’t argue with that. She was generally inclined to pragmatism, and when pragmatism happened to take such a pleasant form, who was she to suddenly deny it?

“Is there anything I can to make the best of it better?” Emma asked, getting ready to start round two.

“I suppose I can think of a thing or two,” Regina said, and the suggestiveness in her tone was like a live wire against Emma’s skin.

Her plans were interrupted by the demon’s voice and she silently cursed its dreadful timing.

“ _Ugh. Get out of here before you poison my realm with your frank, unashamed desire. There’s no room for that kind of depravity here. Your honesty tastes just like pineapple pizza with cilantro on top and it’s truly disgusting.”_

They didn’t have much time to consider a response, because there was a strange gut-wrenching jolt, accompanied by some ridiculously overwrought fake retching noises and then they landed in a tangle of limbs on Emma’s bed. She had the fleeting thought that she might actually be a little bit grateful to the desire demon, despite the whole thing where it had planned to trap her inside her own television forever. It was a fleeting thought though, because the press of soft curves against her that had cushioned her fall across dimensions reminded her that she had decidedly more important business to attend to.

She was just about ready to pick up where they’d left off when something pricked at the edge of her consciousness. She paused, her mouth hovering just above the silky skin of Regina’s inner thigh.

“Did you hear something?”

“There’s nothing there, Emma, I’m sure of it.”

There it was again.

Emma shook her head. “I think there’s someone in my apartment.” A terrible thought crossed her mind. “What if the demon came back with us? It could be looking for another target.”

Regina made an irritated noise before sitting up and gently pushing Emma’s face away. “Fine. We’ll go investigate. But just so you know, we haven’t finished un-sublimating.”

“I promise we can un-sublimate again later. After we’ve made sure there’s no one in the apartment,” Emma said, while she scrabbled around looking for some clothes.

She opened the bedroom door, stepping out into the living room, still buttoning the shirt she’d found. There was the sound of a throat being cleared, and she looked up to find her parents sitting stern-faced on the sofa.

“Do you have a client in there?”

Emma opened her mouth to respond, not sure what to say. She wasn’t even sure what she was being asked.

Snow held up a finger, interrupting Emma’s non-existent response. “No, Emma darling. Don’t say a word. We don’t need to know the sordid details. We’ve come to save you from a terrible life of negotiable virtue. And whatever it is, we’ll help you with it. If you need money, we’ll find a way. We can make sacrifices to pay whatever debts you have. Just… just…” Her mother started blubbering uncontrollably and Emma peered at her, deeply confused. “…just let us h-help you,” Snow finally managed to get out between sobs.

Emma was still standing there, mouth agape, when Regina came up behind her, resting a possessive hand on her hip. She didn’t need to turn around to know that there was a smirk adorning Regina’s face, because she could feel the waves of satisfaction radiating from her.

“Regina?” Snow looked at them both in surprise, before continuing to wail. “You’ve been caught in this life too? Oh, oh, how could this have happened?”

David seemed to take stock of the situation a little more quickly and he stood up, taking Snow’s arm while covering his eyes with his other hand. “I think we might have got the wrong end of the stick. How about we leave Emma and Regina to whatever it was they were doing and we can discuss things further at dinner tonight when they’re wearing a few more clothes.”

He gave them just about the sternest look he was capable of before remembering that he was trying to avoid looking at either of them. He dragged Snow out of the room, running into both sides of the door frame on the way out.

Regina started laughing before the front door had even closed. “I have no idea what’s going on, but the look on your father’s face… I’ll treasure it forever.” She managed to compose herself for a moment before dissolving into further laughter. “And Snow… oh god. I wasted so much time trying to torment her when this was the answer all along.”

Emma sat on the sofa and buried her head in her hands. “It’s not that funny. My mother thinks… I don’t know _what_ she thinks, but it isn’t good. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look Dad in the eye again.”

Regina eyes narrowed as she contemplated the situation. “You know, it kind of looked like an intervention.”

Emma was struck with a horrifying thought. “Fuck. What if they could see what was happening on the TV?”

Regina’s lips curved back into an annoying smirk. “Fuck, indeed. I believe that would be an accurate summation of events. In fact, I distinctly remember quite a bit of fucking.”

Emma groaned. “This is so not helping.”

“No?” Regina’s voice was light and airy and innocent as she sat down beside Emma. “What about this?” She ran teasing fingers along Emma’s inner thigh and any innocence she might have been able to claim was belied by the throaty chuckle a moment later. “Is this helping?”

Emma shook her head. “What… what was the problem, again?” she asked and Regina made sure it was a long time before she could remember.


End file.
